


anywhere but here

by chanyeolpark



Series: Anywhere But Here [1]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: M/M, Past SuChen, joonmyun is jaded and depressed, maybe i'll explore the chenyeol???, sehun is a sweetheart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-15
Updated: 2017-03-15
Packaged: 2018-10-05 17:08:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10313045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chanyeolpark/pseuds/chanyeolpark
Summary: Joonmyun is a jaded Math teacher. Sehun's the rookie.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Joonmyun is 30, Sehun is 25.

Wiping the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand, Joonmyun sighs as he attempts to balance a mug of steaming hot coffee, his freshly photocopied notes for his Math 12 students and find a considerable amount of motivation to climb the stairs. Why there happen to be two photocopier machines for the entirety of Hawthorne baffles Joonmyun to no end. Why they happen to be inconveniently located on the first floor, when his class is on the sixth floor also has been a point of contention for him in the twelve years he's been here. 

The elevator located near the IT room has gone bust again. They're using the _other_ elevator to move large shipments of newly arrived textbooks to the main office located on the third floor. The janitors lugging the boxes from the entrance to the elevator slide Joonmyun dirty looks as they shuffle past him in sullen silence. _Keep away from here and just use the fucking stairs,_ is implicit in their body language.

Standing at the foot of the stairs, Joonmyun forlornly stares at them. It's not that he minds climbing six flights of stairs. When he first started out here, Joonmyun enthusiastically took the stairs every once a day and called it his workout routine. Two years of enthusiasm was his quota of the fucks he had to give for the education system however. Two years became five years and Joonmyun was living on nothing but hopes that he could get out soon with a fat pension to bum on summers in Boracay, hooking up with pretty men.

He balances his heavy stack of photocopies (twenty five per class containing copies of the same handout he'd made in his first year teaching at this school with absolutely no edits whatsoever, a time-filler handout about some common functional notation mistakes grade twelve students still make and a whole bunch of worksheets. Ta-da. His entire week of photocopying done, yay!) and takes a few hasty gulps of his coffee in case he spills it all over the nice new slacks he just bought this weekend during this little stairs adventure.

A quick glance at his Rolex tells him it's 7:45 A.M. He needs to be in his classroom by 8:00 A.M. for his first class. Alright then. Time to do this.

"Need some help?" A soft, hesitant voice jerks Joonmyun out of his silently despairing reverie. He startles, taking in the sight of one of their new Math teachers, Sehun Oh, also carrying his own stack of photocopies.

Korean too. He does not have an accent however, unlike Joonmyun who moved to Toronto when he was eighteen and had a thick accent which no amount of fake posturing could conceal. No, Sehun sounded very much _Western_ indeed at the staff meeting they had, a week prior to the first day of school.

Joonmyun smiles at him and shakes his head. "No, it's okay. My bad luck today. As it appears, the same for you." 

Sehun laughs. It's a shy sound. He's a tall, skinny boy, not looking much older than some of their own students here. He moves with a sort of lazy, self-assured grace, towering over Joonmyun. 

They take the stairs together. The silence extending between them is not awkward but Sehun definitely clears his throat a couple of times, self-consciously.

By the time they reach the sixth floor, Sehun speaks up again. 

"Joonmyun," he says quietly in Korean. "Hyung, it's my first day of teaching ever. Any tips for icebreakers? I'm worried my lesson won't last the whole of first period."

Joonmyun bristles. He's heaving for breath a bit (god, those stairs really do take it out of him. A legitimate indicator that he is not getting any younger. Not like Rookie Who Needs Icebreaker Tips Here.) and he really needs to get to his class. Not waste his time explaining to this kid who thinks he can use some Korean to get favours from his elder.

"Just do whatever," Joonmyun says dismissively. He gives a stung-looking Sehun a severe look through the rims of his glasses. "It's probably better we speak to each other in English at all times by the way. That's more professional."

He walks to his class, not sparing a look back in Sehun's direction.

❤

Joonmyun goes through his first period of Math 12 entirely on autopilot. His introduction PowerPoint could probably use a couple of extra photographs from that vacation he took with Jongdae last summer in Seoul. That had been a good vacation too. He had spent most of it on Gyeongpo Beach, finishing bottle after bottle of soju with Jongdae. Listening to old trot music and feeling cool wind lick through his hair. Jongdae's pretty flirty mouth pressed against his, slow, lazy jerks of his fist around Joonmyun's cock.

Just like old times.

Jongdae is always someone Joonmyun has to struggle to put at the back of his mind but he's there. All consuming. Ever present, always threatening to drag Joonmyun back into falling in love. That had been far too easy as well. Joonmyun hasn't recalled a time when he wasn't always a little in love with Jongdae. Maybe it's Jongdae who makes it so easy with his easy, wickedly warm smiles and sure, measured touches all over Joonmyun's skin.

Maybe Joonmyun lives in the past far too much for his own good.

He's in the process of locking up his classroom after first period when Lu Han pads up to him with a determined facial expression. Joonmyun groans inwardly, already prepared for this.

"Joonmyun," Lu Han begins, waving a sheet of paper at him. "Debate Club. You're helping me this year, aren't you?"

"I've been telling you _no_ to Debate Club for the past three years," Joonmyun begins, already beginning to feel his brow furrow. That tends to happen whenever Lu Han is around him.

"Aw, come on, Joonmyun," Lu Han makes a face at him. "You're really good at debating. The kids are always telling me how Mr. Kim would make such a great addition to the club."

"No," Joonmyun says tiredly. "Seriously, no,"

Lu Han tuts at him. Joonmyun pays no heed, pulling up the neck of his polo to cover up his chin. Something is seriously off with the heating in the school building and Joonmyun has exerted himself enough in terms of complaining to the main office about it.

"Alright, alright, I'll lay off," Lu Han says, with a large grin, putting up his hands in mock surrender. 

"So," he begins again, conversational. "Good weekend?"

"Mm hmm," Joonmyun says, making a noncommittal noise. "It was alright, I suppose. I had dinner with my mother on Saturday." His face burns the minute that slips out. Too late however. 

Lu Han chortles. "That's sweet," he says, grinning widely, looking like he's reminded of Joonmyun's age. Honestly, Joonmyun just reminded himself of his own age too. "When are you gonna get a drink with me by the way? This Friday maybe?"

"I don't know, Lu Han," Joonmyun says. "I'll see."

"We have to make that new teacher feel welcome," Lu Han says. His expression sobers. "I'm serious. Let's take him out for dinner. He might feel less out of place, you know?"

"Eh," Joonmyun mumbles, unwilling to relent. His own experience comes to mind. "I've been here. Struggled. Didn't really do much for you."

Lu Han punches him in the arm, laughing. The sound of his laughter is reckless. Joonmyun has always thought this.

"I know, you're an asshole," Lu Han says. His smile is brilliant. "But together, why don't we make a concerted effort for him? Or have you already managed to antagonize him?"

"I don't _try_ to be an asshole," Joonmyun protests, turning in the key to his office. "I just am one. Have you seen the people in my office? I was so nice the first year I was here. Trying to be nice is too much effort when you're tired."

Lu Han punches him lightly in the shoulder. "At least, you're honest about how much of an shithead you are under that smile. Well, can you give your office mates my Debate Club flyers?"

"No," Joonmyun says. He smiles, resting his weight on one foot. "I might stick them in the recycling bin where I am of the opinion they belong."

"Asshole," Lu Han repeats, with a shake of his head.

❤

For the longest time, Joonmyun had been the only teacher who was a person of colour at Hawthorne Public School. It had been incredibly isolating in a sense. Of course, Joonmyun had made the most of it, smilingly teaching his white coworkers some simple conversation starter phrases in Korean but eventually, he'd learned that nothing he tried would help him fit better. He would always remain an immigrant in his heart of hearts, someone who was inherently Korean in his upbringing but also someone who could not entirely fit in Korea very well either anymore.

Every time, he went back home, back to Jongdae teaching in whichever new city he chose, Joonmyun was reminded of this. Currently, Jongdae has moved again. He says he's extremely happy in Gimhae. Joonmyun doesn't doubt this statement for a single second.

Lu Han joined three years before, fresh out of teacher's training. He was in the English Department, a sore thumb who stuck out amidst the sea of white faces there. "You will be surprised," Lu Han always says. "They're giving more of us ... us Asians .... they're letting us teach English too."

"Hmm," Joonmyun will always say in response and leave it at that.

Joonmyun is tired really. Tired of the students he has to teach, tired of the Math curriculum he keeps regurgitating each semester, tired of his co-workers and the stupid, ignorant things they say. Keep saying. Tired of seeing newbies like Lu Han and Sehun come in and adapt better to the education system than he ever did when he was their age.

Sometimes he wishes he was anywhere but here.

❤

Joonmyun goes through the rest of first week of school in a bored daze. He spends most of his time on his cell phone, liking pictures on Grindr where he's opted to post a display picture of his abs. Joonmyun isn't much of a show off but he's far too many P90X workouts gone at this point to not be proud of his progress.

He’s far too paranoid of accidentally talking to students so there’s never any pictures of his face. Luckily, the app has never recommended high schoolers to him (yet). Nevertheless, Joonmyun spends a lot of time poking the guys who like his profile with sly questions to figure out if they’re being honest about their ages. 

Awkwardly enough, he comes across Sehun’s profile of all people one day when aimlessly checking Grindr during a prep period. He stares at the profile picture, slightly incredulous, imagining all the crude jokes Lu Han will crack at his expense about the only Koreans at the school both being gay.

Jesus. Sehun better not be planning on coming out. Joonmyun would not hear the end of it from Lu Han.

❤

A white kid is mouthing off at him. Joonmyun stares at Allen, decidedly unimpressed.

“Just go back to your country where you came from,” Allen spits out. He’s a tall, slouching kid with shaggy blonde curls. “Assholes like you take jobs from my mom all the time.”

Sighing, Joonmyun crosses over to the other end of the classroom, ignoring the little shithead. He dials the admin on the intercom device, snapping the words quick: “Allen. Get him now.” 

“Kim, are you gonna get me expelled,” Allen drawls out, legs crossed and feet up on his desk, an insouciant stance. His seating partner, Barb, a Native kid, inches away from him, her body wrought tight in tension. Joonmyun keeps an eye on her as he advances quietly, gaze intent on Allen. 

“You’re going to do that to yourself, Allen,” he says, enunciating his words slow and deliberate. Had this been his first year, twenty-four year old Joonmyun would have been a downright mess about this situation, panicking and shutting down completely. 

Thirty year old Joonmyun is a difference scenario, His words drip with silent threat. He draws himself to his full height and engages in a staredown with this white kid who has not been the first and will definitely not be the last to tell him to leave the country and never come back. 

“You see, Allen, I couldn’t go back to my own country,” Joonmyun says quietly. Menacingly. “Not when I am a Canadian just like you. Not when I am an immigrant. Just like your ancestors probably were immigrants too at some point.”

Some of the kids snicker. Allen’s ears flush an angry red. A smirk is threatening to form on Joonmyun’s face but he makes a stupendous effort to stifle it. 

Petty of him really but he’s won this round.

❤

Allen gets suspended for two weeks. Joonmyun’s Period 1 Math 12 class is considerably much less classroom management and more of actual teaching. Barb tells him _you’re not so bad but you’re still really boring, Mr. Kim, couldn’t you do more fun activities in class?_

Joonmyun listens to her, with an attentive smile but barely really listening. 

Jongdae just messaged this morning. _I have a boyfriend,_ he sent. _Remember Park Chanyeol? From Class 2-2? Shit, Joonmyun. I might be in love. Be happy for me?_

There were a lot of things Jongdae asked of him during the years they’d known each other but this one, this one was asking Joonmyun for a bit too much.

❤

Sehun is a silent, whining, fretting mess at his desk. His sniffles, soft at first, get progressively louder and it drives Joonmyun up the wall. He's busy trying to play Pacman and stay involved but eventually, his eyes keep flitting to Sehun's desk more often than not. Sehun's shoulders are hunched over his computer and his face looks flushed. He has a class in five minutes.

Joonmyun does not have to teach. It is his prep period. Joonmyun does not have to prep either because he doesn't give a shit about making different versions of tests, quizzes or assignments anymore. The kids don't do all that well really even when they have past tests from his previous students. Joonmyun knows this from experience. They get complacent and they don't study.

Sehun is busy putting the last touches to his extensive thirty slides powerpoint about how to use graphing calculators correctly.

Joonmyun makes it a point to show Sehun that he is absolutely not interested in how he's faring with any of his class but occasionally when Sehun is off teaching, he does _peek_ sometimes. Sehun is a color coordinated nut. He prints his tests out in bright blue, his quizzes in canary yellow and assignments in hot pink. He has a large Baymax plushie propped next to his computer. 

He makes cupcakes for his students on Friday which smell really good in the staff room and make Joonmyun really want to taste.

However, since he snubbed Sehun on the first day of school, Joonmyun is pretty sure he has been denied all cupcake privileges.

The cupcakes, Joonmyun reminds himself now. Think of the cupcakes.

So he gets up, pauses his game and saunters off to Sehun's desk, leaning his arms on the partition with a smile.

"Are you sick?" Joonmyun asks. Honestly, he is not concerned by the sight of Sehun's dripping nose. "Do you have a fever?"

Sehun looks up, startled. "Hyung," he begins, flustered. Then he cuts off, embarrassed. "Sorry, you said no Korean, I'm sorry-"

"It's okay," Joonmyun cuts him off. "You can call me hyung if you want."

Sehun gapes at him, lips parted in surprise.

"You look tired and sick," Joonmyun says softly. "I can cover your Math 11 for you. It's everything I've done before anyway."

Sehun wipes at his nose with a Kleenex. He's got twenty little crumpled piles of Kleenex sitting on his desk.

The sight might tug on Joonmyun's heartstrings slightly.

"Are you-- it's okay?" He asks miserably. 

"Yeah, yeah," Joonmyun says, grabbing Sehun's handouts. "I'll do it."

"Hyung," Sehun says, surprised gratitude shining in his eyes. "Thank you so much, really ..."

"No problem," Joonmyun mumbles, feeling hot around the collar now. "Put your head on your desk. Get some sleep."

Sehun must be really sick because he doesn't put up a fight. He grabs his plushie and rests his head against it, eyes closed.

Joonmyun's throat feels tight. He leaves the office in a flurry, determinedly checking the handouts. What’s he teaching again?

❤

“Hyung, I heard about how you dealt with Allen,” Sehun says.

Joonmyun starts and looks back, in the process of checking his wallet. “Hmm?”

“That kid in one of your Math 12 sections,” Sehun explains. He scratches the back of his neck and smiles at Joonmyun. “That was awesome.”

Joonmyun winces. Sehun’s Korean is so obviously the result of being around people who barely spoke it. He has to admit though, Sehun trying his best to speak their language is kind of cute. Kind of. 

“Yeah,” Joonmyun replies back in English. He forks out a five dollar bill, mumbling his order: “Burnt caramel macchiato, no foam, no cream, please use 4% milk.”

“Kids these days, you just have to be as blunt as they are,” Joonmyun says, with a shrug. “If you’re too nice, they’ll walk all over you like a doormat.”

_Like everyone used to with me._

Sehun appraises him long after he’s gotten his own order and dumped in tons of sugar in it (matcha latte) they’re settled at a side table near the window, perched on the high swivel chairs. 

“You’re really cool,” Sehun says suddenly. “Hyung, could you please be my mentor?”

Joonmyun sighs. “That’s what we have those boring professional development workshops for each month. How old are you again?”

“Yeah, but it’s not the same as an experienced teacher showing you the ropes. I’m 25.” 

Joonmyun makes a face. Something warm settles in Sehun’s eyes. Swallowing, Joonmyun looks down at his coffee, pretending to check the time on his phone’s lockscreen. 

Sehun’s got pretty eyes. They’re very feline and expressive. 

“I didn’t have a mentor,” Joonmyun says, barely stifling his scoff. “Anything that you need to know is available on Google. If you want my lessons, you can find them in the staff’s database. I don’t hoard my lessons and refuse to share them. I’m an asshole but not _that_ much of one-”

He cuts off and turns a shade of pink. Sehun is staring at him with a triumphant smile on his face. 

Joonmyun just said all of that in Korean without really even thinking about it.

❤

Over the course of the September and October of the first semester, Joonmyun gets used to the presence of Sehun in the office. He puts his salad bowl next to Joonmyun’s salad bowl in the refrigerator. He even has the same type of bowl as Joonmyun except his is orange and Joonmyun’s is blue. Wisely enough, Sehun does not comment on it or bring it up.

“Your lesson plans are horrible,” Sehun says once. 

Joonmyun rolls his eyes. “Then don’t use them.”

“Are you talking about me?” Eileen pipes up, a Math 10 teacher. She has bright red hair and is very pale. She’s a cheerful older lady who Joonmyun has come to secretly christen in his head as the office gossip. 

“Yeah,” Sehun says, deadpan. “Everytime, we talk in Korean, it’s always about you. We’re talking so much shit about you.”

Joonmyun gives Sehun a decidedly unimpressed look. “He’s saying my lesson plans are horrible.”

“Oh yes, I agree,” Eileen agrees, with a big smile. “Can you believe they passed inspection?”

“I honestly can’t,” Sehun says, with a shake of his head. He’s having too much fun at Joonmyun’s expense. Little shit. 

“Just you wait,” Joonmyun playfully threatens Sehun in Korean. 

“Ooh, I’m actually so terrified.”

“Oh my gosh, can you guys talk in English please? That’s _so_ rude!”

❤

They hook up after cleaning up the gym post Halloween party. Sehun is in a silly Patrick Kane outfit and Joonmyun absolutely dislikes it. Absolutely dislikes his messy blonde hair, his feline eyes, his constantly amused, smirky mouth. The way his shoulders are so small but how his body lines taper down to a slim waist. Those legs.

“Patrick Kane is an abusive asshole,” Joonmyun gasps into Sehun’s mouth, frantically pulling off his shirt. “Never wear this shirt again.”

Sehun’s eyes widen in surprise, his expression clouded in hazy pleasure. “Seriously? No way! I love the Blackhawks.”

Joonmyun groans, twining his arms around Sehun’s neck, finally running his hands through Sehun’s hair. “Of course, you do, you’re such a banana-”

“I’m not a banana! Seriously, I’m not whitewashed that much,” Sehun whines, pouting up at Joonmyun from where he’s got the older man, right in his lap. “I just watch hockey sometimes!”

Shaking his head, Joonmyun drag his teeth over Sehun’s neck, feeling more than hearing Sehun’s involuntary shudder and upwards hip-jerk. 

“You’re ridiculous,” is all he says, before he pushes Sehun down onto his bed, staring the younger man down. They’ve been talking on Kakao for awhile now, lowkey flirting but never quite overt. Right now, this is all Joonmyun wants. Jongdae sent him a picture of him and his new boyfriend, _Chanyeol,_ dressed up as Judy and Nick from Zootopia. All Joonmyun wants is to sink into Sehun’s soft body and never come up for air, just take refuge between Sehun’s willing, wanting, consenting, spread out legs and drown for awhile. 

Sehun lets Joonmyun be anywhere but here. He opens up like a champ, taking Joonmyun’s two fingers all at once and flexing his hole around them. He moans and pinks up like he’s never been fucked in the ass before. 

“Baby,” Joonmyun sighs out. 

Sehun smiles breathlessly at Joonmyun and lets him plunder.

❤

They fuck. They fuck a lot. Joonmyun learns what it’s like to be fucked on his kitchen table, taken raw and pounded into till he thinks his brain is rattling in his skull from how hard Sehun takes him. He learns how soft and needy for affection Sehun is when Joonmyun fucks him on his side on a Saturday morning.

He makes Sehun juk and doenjjang jjigae and his own healthy version of kimchi fried rice. 

“Hempseed and flaxseed in fried rice? Really” “Does it taste good?” “...yeah.” “Then eat it and stop talking.” “Hyung, were you ever nice to people?”  


_Once upon a time, there was a nice man. The nicest man alive. He was in love with another man who flirted like his life depended on his shitty pickup lines. Then the nicest man alive lost shitty pickup lines guy to a guy who’s a fucking bamboo tree._

“Nice guys finish last,” Joonmyun says. 

“Can you mentor me and help me become a better teacher?”

“No.”

He makes it a point to stop fucking Sehun before the next semester.

❤

Joonmyun does not stop fucking Sehun during the next semester. Waking up on a Sunday morning and feeling sore all the way in his lower back, Joonmyun stares at Sehun’s soft face, his little mouth dropping drool on Joonmyun’s right nipple.

He’s fucked. 

Sehun’s eyes flutter open. Joonmyun watches him silently, cock hard. 

“Ride me?” Sehun asks, smiling. It’s a sweet and open smile. 

“If you let me fuck you later.”

“Sure, babe.”

He’s so fucked.

**Author's Note:**

> what do you all think! please let me know ^o^


End file.
